Prisoners of Love
by omegabeast
Summary: Catherine begins her new job on the night shift at Muirfield State Prison. Everything seems standard and in line with what she learned in training, however, no amount of training could have prepared her for Prisoner 513. From the first moment, even under dim lights, she is taken aback. And, if that wasn't enough, she learns he is scheduled to executed by the end of the week.
1. Chapter 1: Prisoner 513

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred, physically or by wire.**

A loud buzzing noise sounded, granting access through the massive metal door. Catherine let out an enormous breath and stepped forward. A stocky security officer watched as she placed her lunch bag in the short, white basket on the table, along with the contents of her pockets. With her pockets emptied and free of potential contraband, she ambled forward through the metal detector. Once she cleared the electronic device, the guard opened her bag and conducted a cursory glance inside. Satisfied with the results, he returned her lunch bag and waved her forward. Proceeding ahead, she approached another metal door with a large window. Without delay, it buzzed, permitting entry. Pulling on the handle, she entered and paused, observing the long hallway.

She gripped her bag tighter than required and proceeded with a fixed smile. Passing the control room, she gave a quick nod to the two officers manning the post. Remembering the elevators were nearby, she used her memory palace to ascertain the exact location. According to her mental map, the elevators were a few paces ahead on the left. It would have been easier to just ask the officers in the control room, but she preferred to appear confident and informed. During training she studied a map of the location and committed every nook and cranny to her memory palace for future reference.

After reaching the elevators, she stepped into the transport and pressed the button for the second floor. Fidgeting, she worked extra hard not to look up at the cameras watching her every move. Instead, she stared straight ahead with a calm facade. But inside her emotions were on a runaway train, with a course charted for Panic city.

A bell dinged, followed by the opening of the doors. Taking one last breath and releasing it, she stepped off the elevator. Ready or not. It was showtime.

"Officer Chandler?"

She stopped and turned around at the sound of her name. A swarthy man with medium-length black hair stood smiling at her.

"Yes. I'm Officer Chandler," she replied.

He slid his phone in his pants' pocket and extended his hand. "Welcome aboard. I wanted to be the first person to greet you. I'm Warden Lowan. If you need anything, my office is the last door on the right,' he said, inclining his head toward the end of the hallway.

She shook his hand. "Thank you. I'm happy to be a part of the new team," she said, releasing his hand.

"Great. Exactly what I wanted to hear. I believe you'll be an asset to our facility. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to shift briefing. You're a little early, but that speaks to your work ethic, and not a bad quality to have," he said, his long strides eating up the lengthy hallway.

"I believe if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. That is my motto in my personal and professional life," she said, speeding up her steps.

He smiled at her response. "Here we are," he said. He stopped in front of an opened door and gestured for her to enter. "Take a seat anywhere you prefer. Your shift commander should be here soon. Again, it's a pleasure to meet you, Officer Chandler," he said, offering his hand.

She took his hand. "Nice to meet you as well, sir."

After the warden left, she took advantage of the short moment of solitude to gather her thoughts before briefing began. The clock chimed on the wall announcing the start of a new hour. Deciding to use her time wisely, she scanned the room for cameras. Her training had taught her to always familiarize herself with her surroundings and be prepared for any and everything. No surveillance devices appeared to be installed, but she knew better. They weren't visible, but with a thorough search, she was positive they could be found; hidden in the most improbable places. Distant chatter put her on guard and she braced herself for the onslaught of introductions and names that would take more than one night to associate with the faces.

***  
A faint glimmer of light seeped into the dark room, as Vincent lay in his bunk staring up at the ceiling. After another tedious day of watching TV, and avoiding the crosshairs of dangers, sleep eluded him. With his reputation, most inmates kept their distance, but he knew the time would come when another fool would challenge him, doubting he was as lethal as prison rumors painted him. He had been tested when he first arrived at the facility and needless to say, the aggressor found himself at death's door, begging for life. Ever since then, most prisoners steered clear of him, and he was only too happy to follow the same example. After all, what was the point of striking up conversations and making new friends, when he was a dead man walking? Soon, he would be in a body bag, and not one one soul would care enough to shed one sad tear. It was best to maintain his loner status and keep his distance.

With that thought, his mind wandered down the dark rabbit hole that had become the bane of his existence. The past, vague in his memory, left a lot to be desired. He pushed harder and harder and still he couldn't remember anything. For reasons, he thought futile, the prison psychologist conducted therapy sessions with him, hoping to jog his memory, to no avail. Ten years incarcerated, with every appeal exhausted and death looming over his head, whomever he had been before, was of no importance. With his execution date on the horizon, he had been downsized to nothing more than a number, depersonalized and of little consequence to anyone. He hoped he had at least lived a good life before it was snatched away, never to be seen again.

He linked his fingers behind his head and prepared for shift change. Even though the female guard, that worked nights, was mean as a rattlesnake, he would rather see her than another man. He was surrounded by enough of them. Although not his type, he could appreciate her presence due to his current situation.

The main door buzzed, signaling shift change. He prepared himself for the highlight of his night, by closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep. Using the shadow of light from the hallway, he planned to watch Officer Johnson, as she conducted count. She presented a tough exterior to the world, but he had a feeling she was more miserable than he was, if that was humanly possible. The door to his block opened, causing his heart rate to pick up speed, and his penis to jump up from its slumber.

Footsteps sounded on the concrete floor, as she moved slowly through the aisles, counting each head. He inhaled and a sweet scent assaulted his nostrils. The spellbinding fragrance sent his mind into a tailspin, obliterating his composure. His eyes flew open and his mouth soon followed. It was an officer, but not the mean Officer Johnson he had been expecting. Not that he was complaining. In fact, he was ecstatic. Although, by his stoic demeanor, one would never know.

With every kilowatt available, he scrutinized her departing form. He imagined the lush curves, he was sure he would find under better lighting. At that moment, he realized how much he had taken the small luxury of light for granted, because at present, he had never wanted illumination more.

His mind worked overtime wondering if she was the new floater or just a replacement for the night. One thing was for sure, sleep wouldn't find him tonight. As a matter of fact, if she was the new night floater, sleep could take a vacation, because now, he had better things to do during the night.

He didn't dare blink as he watched her enter the pod, and take a seat. It appeared she would be monitoring his section. Maybe she was new, and learning the routine by conducting count. It didn't matter, he was just glad to be in her presence, and praying he would see her again, even if she wouldn't waste a glance on a nobody like him.

...

Catherine opened the door and took a seat close to the other officer, Tess, whom she had met before conducting count.

"So, what do you think so far?" Tess asked.

"I haven't seen a lot. Ask me by the end of the week and I'll sure I'll have a more definitive answer. How long have you worked at this facility?"

"I've been here two years, but this is my first time working this floor. I have the honor of training you tonight, so that's the only reason why I'm here. We normally rotate floors, but due to the high turnover rate, we haven't been able to."

They both looked up at the same time, when their peripherals caught movement in the sleeping area. A stunned Catherine stared, unable to utter a word. It was dark, but by the silhouette, the inmate was one fine specimen. Tess laughed at her controlled facial expression.

"Don't worry, we've all been shocked by that particular prisoner. He is even better looking up close with lights on. He is a model inmate unless you provoke him. Only one person has been crazy enough to try and with the beating he inflicted on the idiot, no one has dared challenge him since. At this point, he doesn't have anything to lose, since he is going to be executed by the end of the week."

Catherine gasped, to her own dismay. "What did he do?" She asked, her face registering surprise.

"He killed his fiancée, but he claims to have no recollection of the crime or of his past. His name is Vincent Keller, but you are to refer to him as prisoner 513. His files are classified, so we were only told of his crime and nothing else."

"I know the inmates on death row are assigned numbers at the end, to prevent us from seeing them as people, but how heartless. I don't know how to feel about that," Catherine said.

"I agree, but in the past female guards fell in love with inmates slated for execution and the outcome wasn't pretty. I don't think calling the prisoners by a number will change others feelings or opinions of them, if anything it makes the remorseful ones feel worse, but then that could be the intent.'

Catherine watched as he left the toilet area and walked back to his bunk. Her heart went out to prisoner 513. She wanted to know more about him, but if Tess was right, then she wouldn't get the opportunity. With all of her training, she found herself ill-prepared to handle the unexpected situation.

"Does anyone visit him?" She asked, ignoring her training and delving into uncharted territory.

"No. At least not while I've been here. I only see him every now and then, since I don't work on this floor. He works in the infirmary and everyone says he is very skilled at it. He doesn't converse with anyone though. Very few people have had a conversation with him. Although, from what I'm told, he appears to be well-educated, but again, that's hearsay."

"Why is he in general population, if he's on death row?"

"He is considered a trustee, if that makes sense. We all have questions about prisoner 513, but only the warden has the answers."

"Very few things surprise me, but I find myself at a lost for words."

"Welcome to my world."

The rest of the night passed without another appearance from Vincent, but he never left her mind. She refused to refer to him by a number. He was a person and she would treat him as such. As a young girl, she had attempted to rescue every stray animal she came across, which had her questioning if she was mimicking her past behavior. In her heart, she knew wasn't, but her thoughts were far from the norm. Was her life that unfulfilled that she would gravitate towards an inmate? After all, she had job to do, and an investigation to conduct.

**A/N: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED.**


	2. Chapter 2: Code Red

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred, physically or by wire.**

Vincent watched the new officer enter the pod. He could smell her sweetness from the door. Moments later, she entered his section and he was ready. Her hair was in a bun, but he could tell it was a reasonable length. He dared his mind to go any further with that visual, because he was ton the brink of insanity already. She moved with purpose, like a woman on a mission. Although, he knew it was only fifty inmates in his section, he wished her count required her to stay longer. He had to talk to her. He had to hear her voice. His actions would bring attention to both of them, but with the little time he had left, no one would think nothing of it. He may as well go out with a bang. He watched as she entered the pod and began conversing with the other guard. He waited, with minimal patience, counting the seconds until Officer Ballard left. As soon as she departed, he knew it was time to make his move. He swung his feet around and slid into his government issued slippers with his orange jumpsuit already on. He moved with caution, glancing around in case someone tried to catch him off guard. He saw her eyes widen when he neared the pod. He hoped she wasn't afraid of him. The last thing he wanted was to scare her. He didn't understand his pull to her, but he would go with it for now.

He bent slightly to speak through the slot designed for inmates to communicate with the staff. "May I have a roll of tissue, please?"

"Sure. I need to run to the supply closet down the hall. Give me two minutes."

Vincent couldn't believe his luck. He couldn't have picked a more opportune time. He had assumed she would have the toilet paper in the pod with her. He never imagined he would be afforded the opportunity to see her in the bright lights of the hallway. He was like a kid in a candy store waiting for her to enter the light. And when she did, he knew in death, if he didn't make it to heaven, for a moment, he had experienced the euphoria one might feel, knowing they had made it through the pearly gates.  
His eyes devoured her appearance, his mind saving every detail for later recall. Breathtaking and beautiful, he was sure she possessed the lush curves, he had imagined lay concealed under her snug uniform. His whole body was off-kilter, and then he remembered the sound of her melodic voice, and his entire world tilted. He couldn't help thinking how unfair life was, but it wasn't no point in dwelling on a situation he couldn't change.

He peeped in the pod from the window and spotted _Persuasion_ by Jane Austen. He would bet anything she was an uncover romantic. He schooled his features at the sound of her returning. She slid the tissue through the slot, but he noticed how her eyes lingered on him, attempting to examine him unnoticed. In the back of his mind, something alerted him to her being overqualified for her current position. He would examine his suspicions later. For now, her eyes were on him and nothing in the world mattered at that moment.

"What's your name?"

"Officer Chandler."

"Thank you, Officer Chandler. If you get bored and need some company, I'll be up. I'm an insomniac," he said, surprised he had the audacity to say the words aloud. In the past, he had listened to the other inmates, as they flirted with the guards, scoffing at their antics and thinking how foolish they were. Yet, there he was, traveling the same road. Although, the road was worth it, with its picturesque view.

"Thank you, Vincent. I'll keep that in mind."

He jerked his head around so fast, he was certain he would have whiplash. He could have sworn he heard her say his name, but he knew better. But then their eyes locked and she gave him a fleeting smile. She didn't realize she had just added kindling to a smoldering fire, igniting the flames of life inside him, thus jump-starting his dormant heart. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he tried his luck.

"I'll be right back."

"Okay," she replied, taking her seat.

He resisted the urge to sprint back to his bunk, acutely aware of the unseen eyes watching, and ears eager to listen. He would have to be cautious in his interactions with her. While he yet breathed, he dared anyone to threaten her as they so often did the guards, hoping to intimidate them.

After securing his tissue, he walked faster than required, until he had her in his sights again. Without a chair to sit in, he took a seat on the floor. He had never been so happy to be over six feet tall. Even sitting on floor, he would be able to converse with her through the slot.

"For a while silence ensued, both of them waiting for the other to start the conversation. Finally she took the initiative.

"Are you scared? You know with the execution only days away."

He looked down for a moment. "I try not to think about it, but it's kind of impossible being that my mind is my sole companion in here."

"I'm sorry I brought it up, but I didn't know what else to say," she whispered.

He would have given anything to see her rosy cheeks at the moment.

"It's quite all right. You have a pass to ask me anything you want. Although, my memory isn't intact, so I can only share what I've experienced in here. Of course, I was told parts of my past, but it's not the same as recalling the memory from my mind. Every now and then, I'll get a visual, but I can't piece anything together to understand what I'm seeing."

"Why have you decided to speak with me versus the rest of the guards or prisoners for that matter?"

He chuckled. "So you've heard I'm antisocial." He paused briefly before continuing. "I woke up in the hospital with a gunshot wound, that many alleged was self-inflicted, and handcuffed to the bed. I was informed I was charged with the murder of my fiancée. I became bitter and angry, thereafter, pushing away my family members. It's a pity, since they were only trying to help me, but I didn't remember them, so it didn't pain me to cut them out of my life. Soon, I lost them to death as well and I hated myself even more. I had so much anger and hate bottled up inside of me, it was in everyone's best interest for me to remain quiet and secluded, because I was too unstable."

"What about now? Are you in a better place?"

"I guess you could say that. I still don't converse with many people in here. Trust me, it's better that way. But, enough about my pathetic life. Tell me about you."

Catherine disregarded the rational voice in her head and continued down a path frowned upon by her superiors. "I just completed correctional officer training at Hutchins and I have a degree in Criminal Justice from Princeton," she said without thinking.

Judging by the look on his face, she knew she had divulged too much, but she was too foregone to care.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and leaned forward. "What agency?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

For a split second, her mind seesawed from safe to dangerous. In the end, she chose the latter and uttered the words that would either damage her life forever, or lay the foundation for an ironclad trusting friendship. "J. Edgar Hoover."

Goosebumps materialized on her arms with her heart beating unusually fast, waiting for his response.

"I'm told I was an assassin and one of the best in the Army. I surmise that is how I acquired my fighting skills and my astute observation of people and places. For instance, we have two spectators straining their ears, as we speak, to intercept all or parts of our conversation. One snores every night, so his unprecedented behavior is suspicious. The other subject has turned over in his bunk several times, and this is a person that rarely moves in his sleep. You see, I am up every night studying the sleeping patterns of those around me, because trust doesn't live here. With that being said, I heard you, but I think it is best to pretend I didn't, if you get my drift."

"The last bit was a slip of the tongue, but as you said, it's best to move on."

"You can put your mind at ease on my trustworthiness. I'll take it to my grave. I know it's almost time for your lunch break, so I'll leave you be."

"Thanks for the keeping me company. I'll see you in the morning."

"Enjoy the rest of your night," he said before walking away.

Catherine sat in the pod reading her book and eating her lunch. She replayed their conversation in her head, knowing everything had changed for her in one night. Vincent was devoid of memories, but he still managed to intrigue her. The night passed without incident and soon it was time to conduct her final count. Her relief arrived and she entered the section to do her final count and walk-through. Most of the inmates were already awake and preparing to head to their jobs. By the end of her count, breakfast arrived, so she assisted the officer with distributing the trays. Suddenly, a commotion caught her attention in the showers. Inmates began to gather in the area, undoubtedly, curious about the noise. Pushing through the excited crowd, she came upon a scene she would most likely never forget. Blood covered the shower walls and floor. Two naked inmates were fighting, while another was minutes away from penetrating a subdued male, in the far corner of the shower.

"Code Red! Code Red!" She all but yelled, holding the radio up to her mouth. Without thinking, she marched over and demanded the would be rapist, back away from the helpless male. In the blink of an eye, he had her against the shower wall, his breath hot on her neck and his hands traveling the length of her body.

"Release the guard," Vincent said in a voice so lethal, everyone stopped all activity. The room became eerily quiet and all eyes rested on him. Obviously, Catherine's assailant wasn't too bright, because he ignored the order and continued to sexually harass her. His tongue jutted out and he attempted to lick her ear, but his uninvited ministrations were cut short by a crushing blow to his head, that sent him flying against the shower wall. Blood squirted out of his mouth and it was at that point Catherine realized she had communicated the wrong code over the radio. With shaky hands, she reached for her radio, but to her dismay it was nowhere to be found. Fortunately by that time backup arrived.

"Inmates! Assume the position," Commander Bishop shouted.

In a matter of seconds, all the inmates dropped to the floor, their hands extended in front of them, with the exception of the injured one in the shower.

"Chandler, explain."

"Sir, I heard a commotion in the shower area as I assisted with breakfast. I ran to investigate and found a fight already in progress, along with another inmate attempting to commit rape."

"So, which officer was attacked?"

"I accidently transmitted the wrong code. Although, one of the males did corner me after the fact, but another inmate stopped him before he could assault my person.

"Can you identity all the parties involved?"

'Yes."

"Good. Point them out to us and we'll take it from here. I expect to see your report on my desk before you leave."

After all the guilty individuals were identified, Catherine turned to leave. Her eyes roamed the room until they connected with Vincents'. She mouthed a silent thank to you him and he rewarded her with a brief smile. Heading out the door, she knew it was time to kick-start her investigation. She was already in over her head and things were about to get worse.

**A/N: I hope you enjoy and if so, leave me a review. Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3: Memories and Suspicions

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred, physically or by wire.**

Vincent clenched his hands and closed his eyes, as he lay on the couch in his therapist's office, attempting to stabilize his breathing. The sessions, to him, were a waste of taxpayer's money, and to be honest, his time as well. Succumbing to the constant nagging from Dr. Braunstein, he had agreed to continue the fruitless sessions, much to his chagrin. Today, he had agreed to be hypnotized, and now he was back peddling, wondering if it was the right decision. However, upon on further examination of his inner feelings, he realized he was afraid to hope, to believe that he might recall a memory to help his case.

"I'm ready whenever you are, 513."

His mouth transformed into a grimace, at hearing the number he had come to hate. Ever since Officer Chandler had called him by his name, being called by the number grated on his nerves. She had changed a lot about him in two short days, including his will to live, his desire to fight, and his need to find the answers to save his life.

With three left left before his execution, he resigned himself to try whatever was necessary to jar his memory. With renewed confidence and one beautiful woman fueling his motivation, he opened his eyes with the fight of an army coursing through his blood.

"I'm ready. Leave me under as long as you can. I want to remember," he said and he found he meant it. He had never wanted anything more. Well, there was one other thing or person rather, but for now, hypnosis would take precedence.

A smile crossed the doctor's face, and for the millionth time, he raised his brow and questioned the doctor's persistence in helping him get his memory back. In the back of his mind something about him was familiar, but he couldn't pull the memory forward. If the doctor knew him in the past, surely he would have mentioned it to him, unless he had a more sinister, ulterior motive. Pushing the thought back, he relaxed and prayed for success with the hypnosis.

"Follow the instructions I give you and I'll guide you through the process."

_Vincent repeated the words voiced by Dr. Braunstein and soon he drifted into hypnosis. He heard the doctor tell him to relax and concentrate on scaling the wall that was blocking his path. As he ventured through the darkness, he finally spotted a faint line of light. He moved closer and then he heard muffled sounds; piquing his interest. __Unable to pinpoint the source, he decided they were a distraction and pressed forward. Several seconds later, he reached a door and grabbed the knob. A voice in his head told him not to enter, not to cross the threshold of evil, but he had come too far to turn back. With his hand shaking beyond his control, he brought his other hand up and steadied it as he turned the knob. The door opened inward, spilling light into the hallway and he probed the space showcased by the illumination. Voices filled his ears and he stopped, hoping to pinpoint the location. And then out of the light she came; red hair, blue eyes, smiling and to his dismay, nude. If he never remembered another face, hers was one he would never forget. He had seen it everyday throughout his trial. His breathing became labored and he felt an ache in his chest, but he ignored it, because he needed answers, and she had them._

"Vincent! Wake up."

He opened his eyes and frowned at the doctor, not realizing the doctor had called him by name. "Why did you bring me out of it!"

"Because you were close to the danger zone. Don't worry, we'll try again tomorrow."

"Fine," he said, even though he was far from fine.

He pushed up off the couch and headed for the door.

"See you tomorrow, Big Guy," Dr. Braunstein said.

It irked him when he called him that, but the doctor had always tried to help him, so he let it slide. Drained and mentally spent, he headed to his section. There was only one person that could make his day better and ironically, she was an officer.

...

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting a spotlight on Catherine's sleeping form. Shortly thereafter, she rolled over and opened her eyes. Squinting through the last remnants of sleep, she looked at the alarm clock. Unable to believe her eyes, she grabbed the clock. After seeing the numbers more clearly, she froze. She was late. Extremely late. Moving with purpose, she ran around the room snatching clothes, before heading into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged in jeans and a t-shirt, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Grabbing her keys and purse, she rushed out the front door.

After leaving work earlier, she hadn't been able to fall asleep due to her brain's refusal to shut off. Although, she knew she was being unfair, because she kept thinking of Vincent, so she couldn't fault her brain for wanting to continue thinking about him. He had come to her rescue and she was more than grateful. Even if she could have handled the situation, she couldn't use too much force and risk blowing her cover.

Ten minutes later she parked at the local park and got out. After entering the walking trail, without warning, a hand grabbed her and pulled her deep into the woods. A gasp escaped her mouth, before she reacted and flipped the assailant on the ground. Preparing to deliver another blow, she stopped mid-air when she saw his face.

_Her handler_.

"Bob, are you crazy? I could have injured you," she said helping him to his feet.

He rubbed his backside. "Who says you didn't?"

"Then it would serve you right, for putting me in the position to assault you."

"Wow. Two months away from the office and you're already baring claws. By the way, you're late. Would it have anything to do with the incident at the prison this morning?"

She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts, knowing she couldn't reveal too much about Vincent.

"No. The incident was handled quickly and efficiently. Fighting and attempted rape and I happened to get in the way. Besides, how do you know about the incident already?"

She studied his facial expression, hoping to get a read on what he knew, as she was sure he was doing the same to her.

"We have another agent working at the prison. They were there long before you agreed to take the assignment. The agent is a watcher and will work there until we can wrap up the case, but your identities won't be revealed to each other. It protects both of you, in case you're ever put in a sensitive situation."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. And then she remembered something Vincent had said about studying people and places. Observing her handler more closely, she hit paydirt. The telltale signs were there, but she hadn't thought to look deeper, because she thought she could trust him. Maybe he wasn't dirty, but he was withholding information from her. She knew he wouldn't simply volunteer the information, so she would have to bide her time and devise a plan of her own.

"Taking your reason into consideration, I believe both of us should have been told. Wouldn't it be more beneficial for us to be allies and help each other, as well as close the investigation sooner?"

"Under normal circumstances, I would agree, but this case is not normal and it's best we proceed as originally planned. Is that going to be a problem?" He asked with a sober look on his face.

The way his eyes bore into her left her feeling unsettled; along with the underlying threat in his words. Something was definitely going on, besides the initial investigation she had been planted in the prison to conduct. Schooling her features, she presented a performance that was Oscar worthy.

"No. No problem at all. I hope to investigate more tonight. I should be able to get off the floor on lunch break, and since I'm new, I can always pretend I'm learning my way around the building."

"Good plan. Oh, by the way, have you met the infamous prisoner 513?"

_Okay, that was not a casual question. What had she gotten herself into? And in the grand scheme of things, where did Vincent fit in?_

"Actually, I have. I work in his section. His preceding reputation seems to be accurate, if that's what you're wondering," she said, ready to be finished with the conversation.

He chuckled. "I see you haven't lost your skills. I've kept you long enough. I'll see you next week at the same time. The agreed time," he said raising his brow.

"I'll be here," she said as she walked away. She had a puzzle to put together. But first she had to locate all the pieces or players. And there was only person she could trust to help her, and ironically, he was an prisoner.

...

Vincent stared at the clock, despising the slow moving hands, for every second they kept Officer Chandler away from him. Fragments of his past had been flashing in his mind after his hypnosis session, and he needed to talk to someone, well not someone, just her. He had a feeling the information would drop into his mind all at once and trepidation reared its ugly head. He ignored the three day countdown threatening to fuse with his mind and encourage negative thinking. His favorite officer would soothe his worries with a simple glance. He hoped she wasn't afraid to work in his section after the incident that morning. On that front, no inmate would dare touch her again, as long as he inhaled and exhaled the stale institution air. Thinking about the inmate's vile hands caressing her flawless skin, almost had him regurgitating the abominable food served at dinner.

The buzzing of the main door brought him back to present. He stilled his hands at his sides, struggling to remain patient. A few minutes later the door to his section opened, and his heart ran so many laps, he thought he was going into cardiac arrest. Her scent seeped into the air and flowed over to his eager nose. And then she passed by his bunk, leaving an extra helping of pure ecstasy. He closed his eyes and bathed in the fragrant scent that lingered in the otherwise, musty air.

The sound of the other guard leaving interrupted his smelling session, sending his heart on another marathon. Not able to wait any longer, he slid his feet in his shoes and shuffled to the pod. She glanced up and his heart skipped a beat, before resuming anything, but normal activity.

"Hey," he muttered unable to prevent the smile forming on his lips.

"Hi. How was your day?"

Now he was grinning like a lovesick fool and didn't care one iota who thought so. She had reached deep within and touched his soul, by asking about his day. It was funny how the smallest of things were astronomical in prison, like smells, a simple smile, or just someone inquiring about your day.

"It was rough. Dr. Braunstein hypnotized me today, and fragments of my past have been flashing in my mind ever since, but I can't identify anything yet."

He watched her as she listened to him intently. With his keen observation, even under less than perfect light, he knew something was on her mind.

"I hope you figure it out soon."

She didn't say the words, but he knew "soon" meant before his day of doom and gloom.

"What's on your mind tonight?" He asked wondering if she trusted him enough to share it with him. Although, she had shared one secret, that didn't mean she would become an open book to him.

For a moment he didn't think she was going to respond as the silence stretched out. Then she leaned forward and he found himself leaning closer as well, until they were looking at each other through the slot.

"I think my assignment here is a cover-up or a set up for something bigger, and your case is part of it. I can't prove anything right now, but after meeting with my handler today, I am almost hundred percent sure. And to make matters worse, there's another agent working here and neither of us were told about the other person, that is until today."

"What can I do to help?"

She moved her hand toward the slot and he had to blink twice, to make sure he hadn't imagined it. He slid his hand into the slot and grasped her soft hand. No one would ever understand how much joy filled his heart from that small gesture.

"Right now, you're the only person I can trust. I don't think you can do anything, but I feel better knowing I can at least talk to you," she said in a defeated voice.

He squeezed her hand. "I'll do my best to find out what I can," he said hating his situation with a renewed passion.

Reluctantly, he released her hand, committing the feel of it to memory. Before he could say anything else, the door in the hallway buzzed, so he stood up and walked back to his bunk. One man had walked to the pod, but a different one had returned.

He slid under his cover and closed his eyes. He thought about his therapist and how he always said "See you later, Big Guy." For some reason the words swirled around in his head. They meant something to him. He could feel it, but his mind wouldn't recall it. He concentrated hard as the words ran through his mind, over and over, until he saw his therapist's face, only he wasn't his therapist, he was his best friend, JT.

Uncontrollable tears streamed down his cheeks as his past life flooded into his mind. Everything became crystal clear to him. His friend had been working at the prison under an alias, trying to help him get his memory back. His persistence made sense now. Big guy was JT's nickname for him. His friend had been feeding him trigger words for years, trying to assist him in retrieving his memory. The magnitude of JT's loyalty and sacrifice washed over him and more silent tears flowed. But even as he wallowed in sadness and emotional pain, he knew he wanted to fight to live. To fight to be free. And like a flash of lightning, his mind revealed the truth of what happened that fateful night, in absolute clarity. Ten years of being alone. Of being lonely. All because he had been framed.

**A/N: Thank you for reading and taking this journey with me and Vincat. I hope you enjoyed, if so, leave me a review.**


	4. Chapter 4: Revelations

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred physically or by wire.**

Several inmates strolled by as Vincent moved cautiously along the hallway. With clenched hands, while biting down on his lip, he increased his pace. A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a closed door. Closing both eyes, breathing in and out, he raised a hand and knocked harder than was required. Seconds later, the door opened and Dr. Braunstein gestured for him to enter. Stepping forward, he rubbed his hands on the sides of the orange jumpsuit, before taking a seat in a wingback chair. Raking fingers through his hair, he waited for the session to begin.

Dr. Braunstein pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and took a seat behind the oak desk.

"The last time you were here, you were close to a break-through? Have you been able to recall anything after your hypnosis yesterday?"

Vincent leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. "Yes. I can recall every detail of my past and all the people in it."

He looked on as Dr. Braunstein's composure dissipated.

"Are...are...are-" He cleared his throat. "Are you telling me you know who I am?" He asked, tentatively.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, JT," he said, no longer able to prevent the smile forming on his lips.

JT jumped up and Vincent followed suit, when he realized his intent. As they hugged, euphoria washed over him. He never thought he would remember anything or anyone from his past. It wasn't lost on him that the moment would be short lived, but he had experienced very few happy moments in the past ten years, so he pushed his imminent demise to the back recesses of his mind and enjoyed the reunion with his friend.

JT stepped back. "When did it happen?"

Vincent reclaimed his seat. "Last night. I kept thinking it was something familiar about you, but I couldn't recall what it was. When I went to bed last night, I thought about you calling me Big Guy, and from there I began to remember everything. I know you've been feeding me trigger words to jog my memory. Man, I don't know how I can repay you for your loyalty and the sacrifices you've obviously made to help me."

JT walked back around the desk and took his seat. "You can repay me by fighting to live. We need to work on getting a stay of execution and reopening your case. I'm assuming you remember the details of that tragic night," he said, grabbing a pen and notepad.

Vincent stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was framed. The only problem is I don't know the man that was at Alex's house that night. I walked in on them having sex. As soon as I entered the room, he pulled a gun from under the pillow and shot Alex. Afterwards he shot me in the head. The evidence would have supported a murder-suicide, but miraculously I lived. The amnesia sealed my fate as well as reassured the real killer of my inability to ever identify him. I've never seen him before and I can't imagine what I could have done to him, that he would want to see me incarcerated for ten years, for a crime I didn't commit."

"We have to find a way to prove your innocence," JT said, scrubbing his hand across his face.

"I agree, but right now our claims are solely predicated on conjecture. Without exculpatory evidence, or at least enough forensic evidence to reopen the case, no judge is going to grant a stay of execution."

JT looked down his glasses at Vincent. "We have three days and there's no time like the present. I can do the legwork, but I must remind you not to share this new development with anyone. We don't know who is working on the inside. I'm the epitome of that," he said, chuckling.

...

Catherine entered the pod and took a seat across from Tess.

Tess stood up and grabbed her bag. "The day went okay. Normal disagreements over the television. Prisoner 513 seems a little different today. I would even venture to say happy. Stranger things have happened in here, but I don't know why he would have a reason to be happy. It's not like he had a visitor. I can only conclude that he is either crazy, or he has information we're not privy to."

"I can't see why either."

"I'll leave you to it then. Enjoy your night."

"Thank you. I'll try."

Tess turned the handle of the door. "Oh, I almost forgot. The cameras are malfunctioning on the second floor. Inmates are restricted from going to the admin offices until further notice. They were told the floor is under construction. I think that's it. See you tomorrow night," she said in a low voice.

Catherine stared into the distance, her thoughts running rampant. Her window of opportunity had arrived. Without the cameras to record her movements, she could sneak into admin and search the files in the warden's office. The only obstacle would be the officer manning the control room. She had to get past him, as well as have a valid reason for entering admin in the middle of the night. If she could create a distraction, or explain her reason for being in admin, hopefully he wouldn't be suspicious.

"Hey."

Catherine jumped at the sound of the voice. Vincent chuckled at her reaction.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Why are you so deep in thought?" He asked as he took a seat on the concrete floor.

She turned around in her chair and leaned closer to the slot. "I need to work on my investigation tonight. The perfect opportunity has presented itself, but I need to distract the officer at the entry door, to prevent him from growing suspicious of my actions."

'I may be able to help you with that."

She creased her brow "How?"

He leaned closer and peered through the slot. "Open the door and escort me to the supply closet."

She frowned at his request

"You have my word I won't try anything. I assure you, I only seek a more private location for the conversation I wish to have with you."

Catherine stood up with a million thoughts swirling in her head. Most were questioning her ability to rationally see the situation for what it was. To see Vincent for who he was. And even as the warnings flashed in red, she stepped out of the pod and proceeded to unlock the door, inviting potential danger into her life.

He walked ahead of her with his head down. After reaching the door, she unlocked it and they stepped in. Crossing the threshold, transported her further into the abyss. It was too late to turn around and to her shock, she didn't want to.

Vincent turned around and smiled. "My memory came back. The hypnosis unlocked a sealed door and the memories flooded my mind after I went to bed last night. I'm going to share a secret with you, because I trust you, and it will help you with your investigation tonight. My therapist is actually my best friend. He has been working here under an assumed alias with the sole purpose of helping me. Since his office is on the second floor, take me with you when the officer relieves you for lunch break. Inform the officer in the control room, I left my written prescription in my doctor's office. I'll stay by the control room and talk to him while you go to admin."

"Won't he ask why your therapist didn't send your prescription to the infirmary?"

"No. Trust me. I am a bit of enigma around here. It hasn't escaped my notice how intrigued the guards, male and female, are with me. I've been here for a long time and studied every detail of this facility. The environment is more relaxed at night and the guards tend to engage in illicit behaviors of their own from time to time."

She stared at him. "Are you sure about this?"

"I am. Follow my lead and you'll do fine."

Catherine smiled. "I never thought with my training and education I would be in cahoots with an inmate," She said, regretting her words instantly. "I'm sorry. I meant-"

"It's okay. It will take more than that to hurt my feelings. And for the record, I am innocent. My memories revealed I was framed, but I need physical evidence to prove it. My friend and I are working on gathering proof, but we're up against the clock."

"Is there something I can do during the day while I'm off work?"

He stepped closer into her personal space. "I don't want you involved or connected to me in any way. I was framed by someone I can't identify. If he finds out you are helping me, your life could be in danger. And I'm certain I don't need to remind you what happened to the last woman in my life." He paused and then continued. "I...I don't mean to imply our relationship is in the same class, but technically you are a woman in my life."

"I understand your concerns, but I'm a big girl. After all, I did graduate with high marks from the academy in Quantico. At present, my actions violate the oath I took, but sometime doing the right thing isn't always in line with what society deems rational or acceptable."

"We'd better get back. I wouldn't want to get you into trouble, or worst, incite gossip among your colleagues about the nature of our relationship," he said, grabbing a mop bucket and mop.

Catherine nodded and stepped aside, allowing Vincent to proceed in front of her.

...

Catherine entered admin and located the warden's office. Using a hairpin she had smuggled in, along with her spy camera glasses, she picked the lock. Gaining access, she slowly entered, and felt around for the light switch. It was right where the map had indicated. Flicking the light on, she hastily scanned the room and spotted the file cabinet, nestled in a corner at the back of the room. She slid her spy camera glasses on and headed to examine the contents. Pulling on the handle, it opened without any problems. Flipping through the folders, she stopped at Vincent's name, snapping pictures of every document as fast as possible. Satisfied, she ambled over to the warden's desk and checked his computer. He had left it in sleep mode, so she restored it and searched the files. After several minutes, her diligence paid off. He had two accounts for the prison. One looked to be the real account and the other was a dummy account, for the money he was embezzling from the prison. Removing the mini flash drive from the glasses, she downloaded the data from the computer. The incriminating information on his computer could send him to prison for years. He was either extremely arrogant or didn't anticipate anyone ever getting close to the computer. Most likely it was the former. She guided the mouse across the screen to close the files, and at the last minute she saw a file with Vincent's name on it. She quickly clicked on it and skimmed the contents. Her mouth fell open at the details and information in the file. One of the names was familiar and her heart dropped. Vincent had problems and they wouldn't be solved in three days.

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed. The story is unfolding and time is running out for Vincent. Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out who framed Vincent. Leave me a review and let me know your thoughts. I look forward to reading your feedback.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Execution

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred physically or by wire.**

_ Rejoice in knowing, I died with a warrior's heart. I am free. I am finally free. ~ omegabeast_

**Catherine** sat in her car at the park, debating on how much information to share with her handler. The files on Vincent implicated a person of high power, and she couldn't reveal her desire to help him. It would be best to share the evidence on the warden, and keep his Vincent's to herself. Because if she was right, corruption ran all the way up to the top, and she was dispensable. She thought of Vincent's friend, and decided they needed to meet and perhaps, work together. As far as she was concerned, he was the only person she could discuss her findings with. If he had worked at the prison for ten years, trying to help Vincent, then he had to be trustworthy. With her decision made, she exited the vehicle and headed to meet her handler.

"You're on time for change," Bob said, looking up at her from his seat on the bench

"Try working overnight and waking up after getting only five hours of sleep. I have a newfound respect for people who work nights, especially if they remain stationary most of the night. It's not a small feat at all.

"Okay. I get it. I'll cut you some slack. Were you able to investigate further?"

"I was able to infiltrate the warden's office and acquire the evidence we need to arrest him and hopefully convict him," Catherine said, handing the flash drive to Bob and taking a seat.

"That's great news."

"When will I be able to terminate employment at the prison?" Catherine asked.

"Not your cup of tea, huh."

"You could say that. I prefer action to being stationary for hours on end.

"I hear you've been getting pretty cozy with one inmate, specifically, prisoner 513," he said, raising his brow.

"If by cozy, you mean talking through a slot and passing rolls of toilet paper. Because that is the cornerstone to building friendships."

She almost smiled at her own words. Bob had not idea, she was using the truth to defend herself against the rumors.

"No need to get testy. Just a little scuttlebutt I heard."

"And something that didn't need to be repeated. For one, the said inmate is scheduled to be executed tomorrow. And two, my job is done at the prison, so you can end my assignment now, for all I care."

Catherine held her breath, hoping he didn't call her bluff. She needed to speak with Vincent's friend, before it was too late. And she couldn't desert Vincent in his final hours. _His final hours_. She couldn't accept his imminent demise. There had to be a way to save him.

"Did you hear me Catherine?"

She looked up, startled by his voice. "I'm sorry. No, I didn't," she muttered.

"What's going on with you today? One would think you'd be elated with your discovery. Is everything okay in your life?"

"I'm fine. You'll have to excuse my behavior. Charge it to sleep deprivation."

"I need you to tough it out for another week. We need sufficient time to build an airtight case, before making the initial arrest."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Bob's words had just made her day.

"Do you know why the warden would have the governor's name on a file in his office?"

Catherine waited for his answer. Looking at him for any tells of deceit.

"I couldn't say. It could be for a pardon or mandates for the prison. I'm sure it's nothing you need to be concerned with."

But she was. Her gut was never wrong and she had a feeling she had just uncovered the link to a conspiracy. The hierarchy were people with power. The power to make one phone call, and the life could be snuffed right out of her body. She didn't need a warning to know, she needed to proceed with caution. At the same time, she couldn't rid herself of the niggling feeling, that she was overlooking a piece of the puzzle. The piece Vincent needed to blow his case wide open.

One simple assignment had thrown her life in a tailspin, and her heart into a sea of emotions. Her heart. Vincent was just an inmate she was trying to help. Even as she tried to convince herself of such, she knew he played a much more important role in her life. And held an even deeper place in her heart.

"You're right. I'll see you next week. Same time, same place," she said, rising from her seat on the bench.

"I"ll be here."

...

Catherine entered admin and headed toward JT's office. She had arrived earlier than usual for her shift. Vincent had told her JT worked late on Friday nights, so at least she wouldn't appear too suspicious. Although, she could also be romantically interested in him, and just be visiting. Either way, she had to talk to him and see if they could work together, before it was too late. She knocked on the door and waited. Seconds later the door swung open, and her eyes went wide. The last person she expected to answer the door was Vincent. Her heartbeat sped up and she didn't have to look in a mirror to know her cheeks were red.

"Are you coming in?" Vincent asked, wearing a picture-perfect smile.

Collecting herself, she strode past Vincent. A caucasian male wearing glasses, stood up and walked from around the desk. He was as tall as Vincent or more.

"You must be Officer Chandler?"

"I am. But please call me Catherine. There's no need for formality at this point."

"Catherine. I like it," Vincent interjected

She turned around to find Vincent smiling. It was then she released, he had just heard her forename for the first time.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Catherine, I'm JT. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've only recently learned of your friendship with Vincent. But I'm happy you're volunteering to help him. I can vouch for his character. I've known him my whole life and I knew, even when the evidence said otherwise, he couldn't have committed such a heinous crime," JT interjected.

"I've only just met him, but my gut tells me he isn't guilty either. I was able to sneak into the warden's office last night and take pictures of Vincent's file. I downloaded the pictures to my phone and emailed them to myself as well. I can't bring a phone on the floor with me, but if you have your cell phone, I can access my email. I wouldn't suggest using your office computer. Also, I may have found the link to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, but without evidence, it's just a name."

"What is the name?" JT asked.

"Governor Marks."

Silence followed Catherine's words. Everyone understood how hopeless Vincent's situation was, if the governor was involved. JT was the first person to recover.

"Have a seat, Catherine. I have my phone and we can look at the contents of the file and see what we can find," he said.

JT handed his phone to Catherine and she accessed her email. The trio pored over all the information.

"We have to find out what role the governor plays in all this," JT said.

"His name is on all the documents, but I can't see how he could have a special interest in me. And for some reason, someone wanted me at this particular facility," Vincent said.

"Time is running out, and we can't file any paperwork without some proof. And the evidence has to be exculpatory.

Vincent shook his head. "I'm doomed, literally."

JT looked at Vincent. "I have one more stone to turn over. I'll make some calls tonight and I can give you the details tomorrow."

"I'll continue to look over the files tonight. We must be missing something," Catherine said, standing up.

"I have to run to the infirmary. The two of you can stay here until I get back," JT said, rising out of his chair. He walked toward the door and peered over his shoulder. "I'll be gone about twenty minutes, if anyone was wondering."

"Vincent chuckled. "Can he be any more obvious?"

When he looked over at Catherine, his chuckle died a quick death. The gravitational pull overpowered him, as he stood up and walked over to where she stood. He reached out a hand and brushed his thumb across her cheek. His intent was obvious and she didn't stop him. He bent his head and grazed her lips with a soft kiss. A kiss that stole any lingering rationality. Needing more, he placed a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her closer. He nipped at her lips, needing to feel her tongue. As if reading his mind, she opened her mouth, and extended an invitation for their tongues to dance together. He obliged, and their passion exploded into an inexplicable, heated connection. Her taste detonated in his mouth, and his need became ferocious and ravenous. Her hands raked through his hair, and all at once, he became intoxicated with desire. His hands gripped her butt and her moans penetrated his ears, driving him insane. With only a fragment of control left, he ended the kiss. He laid his head in the crook of her neck, and whispered. "If only we had met under different circumstances. I wish I didn't have to say goodbye. Time stood still as neither wanted to move. Neither wanted to face the reality of their situation. In a way, they both knew it was their last special moment together. Their way of saying their final goodbye.

...

**Execution Night...**

A clap of thunder sounded as Catherine parked her car. Her wipers worked overtime to clear the pelting rain from her windshield. Turning the key to the off position, she relaxed and closed her eyes. She had volunteered to work the execution, and she was glad she could go home afterwards. It would be her last time seeing Vincent, but she had to, regardless of the mental torture she would be inflicting on her mind.

Unable to delude herself any longer, she faced the reality of what would happen in a couple of hours. Time had expired and nothing more could be done. She wanted to believe. To hope a stay of execution would be granted at the eleventh hour. But hopes were few and dreams were less. Opening her eyes, a few tears fell on their own accord. Grabbing her keys, she prepared to run from her car to the building. Deciding to forgo an umbrella, signified how much she had deserted caring, and embraced an I-don't-care attitude.

An eerie silence fell over the prison as Catherine entered the front lobby. The sober look on the faces of the guards spoke to the one event everyone knew would be happening soon. After being cleared by the front guard, she hopped on the elevator and headed to face the gloom that awaited her.

Catherine looked around as she exited the elevator. She struggled to stifle a gasp, when she spotted Vincent leaning against a wall, his eyes downcast, with manacles restraining his wrists and ankles. As if sensing her presence, he looked up and met her eyes. For a moment, they communicated their regrets, fears, and sorrows. All too soon, Vincent averted his eyes and their connection was lost. Officer Stephens appeared and radioed the control center of their status.

"Prisoner 513 is shackled and ready for transport."

"10-4."

Minutes later, two additional guards exited the elevator and flanked Vincent. With the prison protocol in place, they escorted Vincent to the elevator. A short ride later, the group stepped into the long hallway leading to the death chamber. Catherine looked down at the floor, attempting to control her emotions. With every step, her heartbeat sped up and heat coursed throughout her body. All too soon, the familiar buzzing noise sounded and entry was granted to the death chamber. Catherine watched as Vincent was whisked away by the medical team. She entered the room facing the death chamber, and looked through the window at the flurry of activity. The medical team working in unison, strapped Vincent to a gurney. In no time, he had an intravenous line running from each arm, and a heart monitor in place, so his time of death could be recorded. Catherine clenched her hands at her sides, and prayed she would make it through the ordeal without fainting. The warden entered the death chamber, and her heart dropped. Ready or not, it was showtime.

...

"Do you have any last words?" Warden Lowan asked.

Vincent looked through the large glass, at the small crowd gathered in the room, and began to speak.

"The hour has arrived to close the curtain on an innocent man, but I must accept my fate. I have walked here with my head held high. No tears are allowed and sadness is banned. To those who have believed in me, I leave with you in my heart. Though my body is on the precipice of death, I have only one regret. An irrelevant regret at present. Although, my exoneration may be posthumous, I will not have died in vain. My case and death will leave an indelible mark on the world, for years to come. A normal man I was born, but tonight, a warrior will close his eyes. May my memory live on forever. Goodnight World." He looked at the medical team. "You may now infiltrate my body with your poison, so my spirit can fly free."

The warden inclined his head and the medical team injected one of the IVs with the drugs to induce death. Silence ensued as everyone waited for the drugs to take effect. Without warning, Vincent began to writhe on the gurney and gasp for air. His chest rose and fell. His eyes rolled back and the heart monitor flatlined. It was officially over. Vincent Keller was no more.

...

Catherine entered her apartment and flicked on the lights. She walked over and threw her phone on the coffee table, before plopping down on the couch. She didn't want to talk to anybody for a long time. Unable to control her emotions any longer, the floodgates opened. Tears blurred her vision, but she couldn't stop. Her heart ached, and her mind couldn't believe she would never see Vincent again. Nothing would ever be the same. She wouldn't be the same. Her phone beeped and she wiped her face with her hands. She leaned over to view the screen. It was her handler. Screw him. Her eyes moved across the table and she noticed a folded, yellow piece of paper. Strange. Where did it come from? She snatched it up and unfolded it. Scrawled across the lines was one word. Roof. She hesitated, wondering who would summon her to the roof. Only a few people knew where she lived, and even less knew about the access door to the rooftop. Could her handler be on the roof? Was there a new development in her investigation of the warden? With her curiosity compelling her, she jumped up and ran out the door, and down the hallway. Taking the stairs, two at a time, she ran to the top, and opened the door leading to the roof. Probing the area, with only a hint of light from the moon, she saw no one. Turning around, she grabbed the door knob and a hand came out of nowhere and covered her mouth. She struggled against her attacker, until he whispered in her ear.

"It's me," he said and removed his hand.

She turned around and her eyes widened. "Vincent!" she said, before her world faded to black.

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed. The plot thickens. A very intense and sad chapter, but our Vincent survived. Stay tuned to find out how Vincent cheated death. Leave me a review and let me know your thoughts. I look forward to reading your feedback. Enjoy your day.**


	6. Chapter 6: Decisions and Answers

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred physically or by wire.**

_In the quiet of night, when loneliness and despair consume my mind, taking me to the brink of insanity, all I can see; is her face and beautiful smile, and in that moment, all is right in my world, again. ~Vincent_

Catherine's eyes fluttered open. The familiar surroundings came into view. She frowned. _Had she fallen asleep on the couch?_ The last thing she remembered was coming home from the execution. Memories of the execution flooded her mind. The flatline noise on the EKG, signaling the end of a life. Vincent's life. Then it hit her. Panic suffused her body, as she sat straight up. He was alive! _Or had she been dreaming?_ It seemed so real seeing Vincent on the roof. She snatched her phone off the coffee table and checked her calls. Ten missed calls from her handler. Just as she prepared to listen to her messages, a movement in her peripheral caught her attention. Snapping her head around, the man, himself, stood there in the flesh. Even with all the unanswered questions swirling around in her head, her heart recognized his presence in the room by speeding its beat up.

"Hey. I hope I didn't scare you," Vincent said as he climbed through the window.

"How are you here? I saw you die," she replied.

"Vincent took a seat on the couch beside her. "My heart did stop, which was part of the plan. JT has a friend who is a scientist for the military. He developed a serum that transforms a regular soldier into a supersoldier. It's still in the experimental stages, but it's the only option I had, unless I wanted to die for real.

"So, you're a supersoldier now?" Catherine asked with a look of shock on her face.

"Something like that. I'm still learning about what I am. When I transform, I am a supersoldier with a beastly exterior. I must warn you, it is not a pretty sight."

"How did you fake the execution?"

"The serum stopped my heart. During that time my body made the transition. JT donned a disguise and pretended to be an assistant at the coroner's office. He had a van waiting and took me to prearranged location. I only had thirty minutes to be injected with the second part of the serum, or I would have died.

"Do they know your body is missing yet?"

"Yes. I'm sure the coroner notified them, when my body never showed up at the morgue. The only good thing about this whole situation is, they're looking for a missing body. That means we have to work fast." He looked at Catherine. "I care for you, but I know it would be selfish to ask you to go on the run with me. To give up your career, your family, your home, and your friends. I came to say goodbye, but you fainted in my arms, before I could, so I brought you inside and waited for you to come to. When you didn't, I assumed I had time to meet up with JT and let him know I needed more time to speak with you. I couldn't leave you in the dark."

Catherine leaned over and placed her elbows on her knees. She ran her hands down her face. Her heart implored her to go against everything in her life. To leave her home, family, job, and friends. _Could she walk away from everything for a man she had just met?_ A man who was considered deceased. And all for what. A chance at love. Her emotions warred inside and in the end her heart won. She didn't know if she was making the biggest mistake of her life or the best decision of her life, but she had to find out. Owning her decision, she stood up.

"I want to go with you," she said moving toward her bedroom.

Vincent jumped up and followed her. "I can't ask you to sacrifice everything in your life for me," he replied.

"You didn't ask. I'm grown and I make my own decisions." She stopped in the hallway and turned around. "Tell me you don't want me to go. Tell me that what I'm feeling is one-sided, and I'll go sit back on the couch, and let you walk out of my life, forever."

He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. "You know I can't do that. Even if it means you are safe, I can't walk away with you believing I don't care. That every thought I have, doesn't involve you." He advanced until he was in her space. "You are the reason I have faith. The reason I wake up every morning. Though we've only just met, I know we're meant to be. I can feel it. So, please don't ask me to do something that would break both our hearts. Something that would steal the fight from my body and the joy from my heart. It is because I care for you, that I can't lie to you, and tell you the words that would make you stay."

Catherine reached out and took his hand. "Then believe in us. Believe in me. I've already reached the point of no return. Rationality vacated my mind days ago and my heart would lonely without you."

Vincent pulled her closer and ran his fingers through her hair. "I don't want to see you forfeit everything in your life on a whim. I can't promise you anything right now. I can't even promise myself the outcome will be good. I couldn't live with myself if you left everything behind for me, and it ends up being in vain."

Catherine placed a hand over his heart. "Can you promise I'll always have a place here?"

"Of course, I can. My whole heart is already yours," he answered without pause.

"Then that is all I need to hear. One does not live with half a heart. Being apart would sentence us both to death; the end result of two broken hearts."

...

Vincent mulled Catherine's words over, but he knew he couldn't let her walk away from everything. Although, he wanted nothing more, he couldn't do it. He didn't understand their connection, because he had never felt compelled to be so open and honest with anyone, besides JT. Some days he wondered if he was dreaming. Catherine had everything going for herself, and the last thing she needed was the baggage he came with. _Deadly baggage_. He needed to find a way to talk her out of going, but he drew a blank. Refusing to admit defeat, he decided to proceed the direct route. _To tell the truth_.

"Catherine, I would like nothing more than for you to accompany me." He closed his eyes and exhaled, before reopening them. "But right now, you're caught up in the moment. I need you to give me at least two days, to figure out who framed me. I can see his face, but I don't recognize him. By then I hope to have a name and we'll know what direction to proceed, and what people to investigate. Besides, you can help me more by being on the inside."

Catherine smiled at him. "You don't play fair. But you have my attention. Your plan does make sense."

Vincent gave her a sober look. "Now, I want you to be honest with me. Why are you so anxious to get away? You're smart, beautiful, intelligent, and a FBI agent. People don't walk away from lives or careers like that for uncertainty. There's more going on than what you're telling me."

She averted her eyes. "I don't have anyone. My parents died a while back, and my sister and I are estranged. I know it's sounds pathetic, but you're a the first person to connect with me on any level in a long time."

He slid his hand under her chin and lifted her head. "You have me and I'm not going anywhere," he said and hugged her.

...

Catherine parked in her usual parking space at the park and exited the vehicle. Her handler had been calling her non-stop and she wondered what was so urgent. He had texted the code to meet, so here she was walking into a blind situation.

She spotted him sitting on a bench reading a newspaper. Looking around, she took a seat.

"Where have you been?" He asked, not bothering to look up from the newspaper.

She cut her eyes at him and then looked forward. _When had her life become so complicated?_ A job she had coveted for years, all of a sudden seemed too demanding of her time. Thoughts of having a family entered her mind, and for the first time, she wondered if she had chosen the right career.

The past week had opened her eyes to the dark and tragic side of justice. If a man of Vincent's status could be framed and executed, then she wondered how many other innocent people had died for the crimes they didn't commit. The thought left a bad taste in her mouth and a ache in her stomach.

"Sleeping. What is so important, anyway?"

She scrutinized her handler, and for the umpteenth time, she questioned his loyalty. The last few times they had met, she had a niggling feeling in the back of her mind, something was off, and her gut was never wrong.

"Vincent Keller's body is missing," he said.

Catherine's exterior remained stoic, but inside the cog wheels were rotating, and she hadn't missed her handler calling Vincent by name. It was time to revert back to her FBI training.

"Why would that concern me? I watched the guy be executed, and if he's dead, then who cares what happened to his body? Don't the families donate the bodies to science sometime?" She asked, almost cracking a smile at her nonchalant attitude.

"We debriefed the other agent already, and she didn't know anything. As a favor to the warden ..." he trailed off.

A tidbit had just fallen from his lips. She looked over at him, prepared to challenge him on his slip of the tongue, and saw the almost imperceptible nod of his head. Looking forward, she caught a flash of light and ducked. Seconds later, a bullet pierced the back of the bench where she had been sitting. She jumped up and sprinted behind a tree. Waiting a few minutes, she took off in a dead run for her car. With so many people around, she didn't think the sniper would stick around. She didn't take the time to find out either way. Speeding out of the parking lot, she headed to her apartment.

At her apartment, she grabbed her emergency bag and the stash of cash she had stored away for times like this. In a matter of minutes, she was back in her car, and headed to the address Vincent had given her. It would seem fate had made the decision for her. She was now in hiding with Vincent. As she drove, she recalled her meeting with her Bob. If an order had been given to kill her, then she knew or had seen something of importance. The files had to contain information worth killing her over. She made a mental note to go over the files again, with a fine-toothed comb. Whatever it was, she would find it. As one reality faded, another realization dawned. Bob had referred to the other agent as a she, and Catherine had a gut feeling she knew the identity of the agent.

...

Vincent met Catherine at the door of the warehouse. He had heard her heartbeat as soon as she pulled up. He frowned when he saw her snatch several bags out of the trunk

"Why do you have bags?" he asked.

"Because I know too much. I just met my handler at the park, and I saw him nod, before a bullet hit the back of the bench, where I had been sitting. I saw a flash and ducked seconds before the shot hit."

"Are you okay?"

"I will be, once I go through the files again. We have missed something. Something that is important enough to kill me over," she said

"Come in. We can start now."

Vincent led Catherine to the first floor of the warehouse. JT inclined his head as they entered and resumed looking at TV.

"JT what are you watching?" Vincent asked.

"The governor has called a press conference. He should be stepping to the podium soon," JT replied.

Vincent watched as the governor walked up to the podium. He listened as he began to speak and to no one's surprise, he referenced the search for Vincent's body. Vincent shook his head at how much time and resources of the state they were wasting on him. He looked at the crowd and one man in particular had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Vincent turned around and looked at JT.

"Who is the guy standing to the right of the governor?" He asked.

"That's his son, Evan," JT replied.

Vincent gave him a sober look. "I know who set me up. It was the governor's son."

**Author's Note: Thanks for all your awesome reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate you for taking the time to leave me some feedback. You truly humbled and inspired me. I hope this chapter was just as enjoyable or more. I look forward to reading your thoughts. Enjoy your day.**

**P.S. I made a mistake on the governor's name in the previous chapter. It was supposed to be Governor Marks instead of Evans. I guess I had Evan on the brain. I hope my mistake didn't confuse anyone.**


	7. Chapter 7: On The Lam

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred physically or by wire.**

Catherine stood at one of the windows in the dilapidated warehouse, as morning dawned. A train meandered down the nearby tracks, shaking the old building as it passed. Smoke billowed up into the air as the machines in the factories came to life. But even the hustle and bustle of the city, couldn't distract Catherine from the harsh reality at the forefront of her mind. As much as she would have liked to believe she had been dreaming, or the issue would disappear, she knew neither the former, or the latter would happen. She chuckled at the irony of her situation. How did an Ivy League graduate go from being an FBI agent to having a target on her back? And then the thought occurred to her. What if the agency had handpicked her for the assignment at the prison? What if it had been part of the plan from the beginning? She let out a sigh. The intricate details of the setup grew more complex by the day. Then she remembered a statement Vincent had made, about someone wanting him at that particular facility. It seemed ludicrous, but she couldn't dismiss her suspicions that maybe the judge presiding over Vincent's case had been involved, or at the least paid to sentence him to death row at Muirfield State Prison. But before she could move forward, she needed to speak with the other agent assigned to work at the prison.

"I see you're already up."

She turned around at the sound of Vincent's voice. A voice she had become accustomed to over the past week.

She smiled. "Yes, I am. I had a lot on my mind and I couldn't sleep. I've been watching the city come alive as I sort through the thoughts in my head."

"Any new ideas?" He asked, leaning against a nearby wall.

"No, but I do believe I know the identity of the other agent assigned to the prison," she said, unable to tear her gaze away from the sexy body on display in front of her.

"Who?"

"Officer Vargas. She worked on another floor until I began working at the prison. When Bob slipped up and said she, I knew it was her. I'm going to go talk to her, and see if we can be allies. If I'm right, her life could be in danger as well."

"How are you going to find her?"

"She's off today. And from our few conversations, she visits her mother on her off days. It's close to my old neighborhood. With a little investigating, I can get the address. I can't call her phone, since I'm sure it's being monitored."

"You're taking a big risk going there. What if she is part of the plan to kill you?"

"I don't think she is, but it's a risk I'm willing to take," Catherine said.

He pushed off the wall and walked up to her. "Do you want me to go with you? I could remain at a safe distance in case you need me."

"No. I can't risk you being seen. It's one thing for me to be seen, but we don't need anyone to start questioning your death. Right now, we have the upper hand, but if they suspect we're on to them, we could lose our only opportunity at acquiring the evidence we need. And I have a feeling, there are more players involved in the plan," she said, finding it hard to concentrate with his handsome face in close proximity.

Vincent touched her face. "Please be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. You have my number in your burner phone. Don't hesitate to use it if you need me. I don't care about being seen if you're in trouble." He ran his thumb across her cheek. "Promise me that you'll call me if you need help."

Yes was the only word she could utter, while looking up at his handsome face and those mesmerizing hazel eyes.

"Yes. I promise."

He smiled, and Catherine knew right then, she had lost her heart. With a dimple on each cheek, he was the epitome of gorgeous.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, dipping his head and claiming her lips.

...

Evan Marks sat behind his massive mahogany desk, nursing a glass of scotch. For two days, he had been waiting on results. He had given simple orders and crafted an even simpler plan. And not one person had achieved the results he sought. How hard could it be to find the body of Vincent Keller? And furthermore, why was Catherine Chandler still breathing? His hands hadn't drawn blood in years. But now his thirst had resurfaced. It appeared the time had come to eliminate his own loose ends. After shelling out large sums of money, it would seem he still had to do his own dirty work. A sinister smile spread across his face, when he thought of wrapping his bare hands around Catherine Chandler's neck, and choking her until he saw death in her eyes, only to revive her, and do it again. Excitement coursed throughout his body. The all too familiar high washed over him, and he licked his lips. Yes, it was time to resume his favorite sport.

"Mr. Marks, your one o'clock appointment is here," his secretary said over the intercom.

"Send him in."

The click of the door alerted him to his visitors' presence in the room. He raised his head to face the man he had put his faith and trust in to do his dirty work.

"Lowan, you want to explain to me why everything seems to be falling apart?" He asked, without preamble.

Lowan took a seat and scrubbed his hand down his face. "I have everything under control. It would be best if you remained calm and let us do our job.

"I don't need any unsolicited advice, suggestions, or opinions. I need action." He slammed his fist down on the desk. "Do I have to do the job myself?

Lowan averted his eyes and wiped his hands on his pants. "We are scouring the city in search of the body. Whoever stole it, went to great lengths to keep it hidden."

Evan gave him a killer look. "That is obvious! I have paid you a great deal of money, but I haven't received the promised result in return for my monetary contribution."

"I have my best people on the job. And must I remind you, Vincent Keller is dead. Is that not the end you required?"

Evan grabbed his unfinished glass of scotch. In one smooth motion, he threw the contents of the glass in his mouth, welcoming the burn in the back of his throat. He leaned over his desk with both elbows. "I don't care what you saw or what you know. Until I see his dead body, I will continue to search. A body isn't a coveted commodity, and yet, someone went to great lengths to confiscate Kellers'. Perhaps, we should examine the reasons why a body would need to disappear, and then we will be able to ascertain if the execution was a perfect ploy to gain freedom."

Lowan stood up and walked over to window. "There isn't any benefit in a dead body, other than using it for science." He turned and looked at Evan with a frown. "Are you insinuating Keller could have faked his own death?"

Evan smiled. "I see your fancy education wasn't in vain, after all."

Lowan walked over and reclaimed his seat and furrowed his brow. "I was there. I watched Keller take his last breath and the machine flatlined. If he faked his death, then that would mean he had help. And that help, would mean someone on my staff assisted him, because he hasn't had any visitors in years."

"You're late to the party, but I must commend you on your astute deductions. I don't need to to remind you that he can identify me, if he regains his memory. And if my suspicions are correct, I believe he already has." He stood up and slid his bespoke suit jacket on. "I have another meeting to attend, but I suggest you clean your mess up or I will. And if I do, there won't be anyone left standing, but me," he said, before exiting through a side door.

...

Catherine sat in her car in black attire and a cap on her head. She had been sitting for almost an hour when she spotted a dark sedan pull into the driveway. Minutes later, Tess emerged from the vehicle. Catherine jumped out of the car and sprinted across the street.

"Tess," she called out.

Tess turned around, a frown marring her face. "Catherine? What are you doing here?"

Catherine paused to catch her breath. "I'm sorry for intruding on your personal time, but it's imperative I speak with you. I don't know what you've heard already about my sudden departure from the prison, but it could affect you as well."

"Tess' face softened just a little. "Follow me," she said, looking around.

She followed Tess to a small detached building at the back of the house. Tess opened the door and they stepped inside. Catherine deduced it was a game room, by the pool table and the small bar in the corner of the room.

"Have a seat," Tess said, gesturing to a chair in front of a card table.

Catherine waited until Tess took a seat, before she began to speak. "I have reason to believe you're with the agency," she said, deciding it was best way to start the conversation.

Tess smiled. "I'm assuming you are as well, if you're asking me such a question."

"I am. That's why I here. I don't know the extent of your relationship with Bob, but I met with him yesterday and a sniper took a shot at me, after Bob gave him a signal. I happen to see him nod just in time and ducked. If I'm considered a loose end, so are you."

Tess didn't say anything for a few minutes and Catherine began to second-guess her decision to meet her.

"Why would he want either of us dead?" she asked, with a stoic expression.

"I've seen the files on the warden, so I'm thinking I may know too much about the investigation. I don't know how much you know, but Bob's slip of the tongue led me to you. I believe he is playing both sides, and anyone soon bodies are going to start dropping. If I hadn't glanced at him, I would be one of those dead bodies."

"Okay. Let's say I believe you. Do you have a plan?"

Catherine studied Tess as she spoke. She would have to see if Tess was trustworthy, before she told her about Vincent.

"I have some friends working with me, and I'm staying with them. I'll be honest with you. A lot is at stake here, and I've risked a lot just coming here-"

"And you want to know if you can trust me. I won't lie and say I'm not a little wary, but if you're being upfront and honest with me, then I can assure you, my loyalty won't be a problem. Plus, I've been reassigned to a desk job without any legitimate explanations to why, which adds more credibility to your story," Tess interjected.

"I'll discuss it with my friends, and we can meet here tomorrow at the same time. Are you okay with disappearing for awhile, until we uncover the conspiracy?"

"Looks like I don't have a choice."

"Then I will see you tomorrow," Catherine said, pulling the hood over her head and exiting the building.

...

JT took a swig of his beer and looked at Vincent. "Are you sure about involving Catherine in this? I know a target is on her back, but with her knowing you are alive, makes her situation even more dire."

Vincent perched on the edge of the old couch in the warehouse. "I don't know JT. I tried to convince her to stay away, and I had succeeded until someone took a shot at her. I have to help her. And right now, I think it's best if we remain together. Besides, she can help us with her extensive knowledge of the criminal justice system."

JT chuckled. "By now, both of us should be experts on the system. All jokes aside, though, I have a plan to get Evan to confess."

Vincent raised his brow. "I am quite familiar with your plans." He stood up and walked over to the mini-fridge. "How dangerous is your clandestine scheme this time?" He asked, grabbing a beer.

"Let's not forget, I am the mastermind behind springing you from the Big House," he said, using air quotes.

Vincent sat down on the couch and popped the top on his beer. "And I appreciate every sacrifice you've made for me, but I don't want you endangering your life any further, because of me. It was one thing to work under an alias at the prison, when I had no clue of your identity, but now the risks are greater." He looked at JT and continued. "I know your heart is in the right place, but let me do something for a change."

"How do you plan on doing anything if you're supposed to be dead?" JT countered.

"I don't know. Maybe I can wear a disguise or try to investigate during the night."

JT shook his head. "My plan is much better. The governor is having his annual charity ball tomorrow. I have secured three invitations and costumes are mandatory. We couldn't have planned it better ourselves. I will pull Evan aside, and pretend I know all the details of the murder, with the implied threat of blackmail. If he is as arrogant as I believe he is, he won't miss an opportunity to brag about the murder. And, I'll have a recorder on me to record the confession. I will need you to hang nearby, in case he decides he wants to take a more permanent route. You know... like ending me."

"It's a good plan, but as we both know, even the best of plans can go awry. And what about Warden Lowan?"

"If we can coerce a confession out of Evan, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to name the rest of the players. He's arrogant and rich, not to mention, the son of the governor. Even if he refuses, the fixer for the governor will want to do damage control."

Vincent weighed the options available to them, and he knew this might be their only opportunity to corner Evan.

He took a drink of his beer and set the bottle on the floor. "Okay. I'm in."

JT smiled. "I knew you would see it my way."

...

Vincent walked in the room and sat on the bed by Catherine. "Did you get to a chance to speak with Tess?" He asked, noting how weird it sounded after calling her Officer Vargas for so long.

"I did. And I was right, she is the other agent who was assigned to the prison."

"Was?"

"She has been reassigned to a desk job at the local office. I believe it's to keep an eye on her. They are closing ranks in an attempt to cover their tracks."

"You think we can trust her?"

"I would like to believe we can, but I haven't known her long enough to say yes, without any lingering doubts," she said

"She has a better chance of surviving, if she decides to help us. If she knows anything, they will kill her without thinking twice," he said

"I know. Do you think I should take a chance and bring her here?"

Vincent chuckled. "JT is going to need some Tums if you do, but go ahead. I won't sit by and let another innocent person be hurt by these people. I'll deal with JT."

Catherine frowned. "Tums?"

"When we were younger, JT stressed a lot, which resulted in him developing ulcers. He keeps a bottle of Tums on hand for emergency situations." Vincent chuckled and continued. "I can only imagine the amount he must have consumed, while working at the prison."

Catherine punched him on the arm. "Don't ridicule him. It's dangerous being your friend."

Vincent's expression turned serious. "You know my life wasn't always so complicated."

"What did you do before..." she trailed off.

"It's okay. I've made my peace with the situation. I just want to clear my name and move forward. But to answer your question, I was a doctor in the civilian world as well as in the military. Before that, I was a firefighter."

Vincent smiled at Catherine's reaction.

"Wow. Aren't you ambitious?" She asked, a look of surprise on her face.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I come from a long line of firefighters, and I thought that was my calling as well. My brother, William, knew if anything happened to me, it would devastate our mother, since I'm the baby of the family, so he convinced me to go to medical school. Although, I didn't need a lot of cajoling, since it had been my wish all along. But then 9/11 happened, and my brothers perished in the towers, prompting me to join the Army," his said, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Catherine reached over and grasped his hand. "I didn't mean to pry or open old wounds."

He kept his eyes downcast. For some reason, he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe because he had never discussed his brothers' demise with anyone. After the senseless tragedy, he had joined the Army, and never looked back. He had compartmentalized his emotions, and stored them in the back recesses of his mind, hoping to never see them again.

After doing one tour of duty, he realized military life wasn't for him. After being honorably discharged, he'd reconnected with JT, and met Alex soon after. For a while, everything had been good. He would even venture to say great, but then the murder happened, and everything went downhill from there. He had lost his parents, while wasting away in prison for a crime he didn't commit. And the part that bothered him the most, was how he had pushed his parents away, because he didn't remember them. Tears blurred his vision, when he thought about the pain he had inflicted on them. And since they had died while he was locked up, there would be no absolution.

Catherine's thumb rubbed circles atop his hand. He knew she was attempting to calm the storm brewing within his body, but he had held it in too long. Surrendering to the pain haunting his soul, tears from a decade ago, streamed down his face. He gripped Catherine's hand tighter. He needed her comfort. As if she could read his mind, she scooted closer and placed a hand around his back. He leaned in and rested his head on her shoulder. Her unique smell wafted up to his nose, calming his wayward emotions. He raised his head and she turned around, causing their lips to collide. Unable to control himself, he reached over and pull her onto his lap. With her straddling him, he nipped at her lips and soon his tongue sought the sweet haven of her mouth. Granting him access, their tongues touched and began to mate. Her taste permeated his taste buds, throwing his mind in a fog, and his body into a frenzy. The feral beast within him awoke with aggressive orders. Claim their mate! He stopped kissing her, and placed his forehead against hers.

"What's wrong?" Her sweet melodic voice questioned.

He raised his head, and presented eyes he knew were amber and glowing. Her own eyes widened, and her body tensed. But then she rubbed a soft hand down his cheek, and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his lips. His heart had never known such happiness, and his eyes had never seen anyone as beautiful. Hope flooded his body, and his long forgotten dreams awoke from their beds of desertion. His future sat on his lap. She knew what he was, who he was, and she hadn't run away. This was his second chance, but it was only tangible if their plan succeeded tomorrow night. And they would succeed.

**Author's Note: Thanks as always for your wonderful feedback. Thanks for motivating and inspiring me. I hope this chapter was just as enjoyable or more. I look forward to reading your thoughts. Enjoy your day.**


	8. Chapter 8: Masquerades and Facades

**DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred physically or by wire.**

**TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

Vincent leaned against the bar nursing a highball glass of amber liquid. A black mask concealed his identity and a black tux adorned his body. Around him, people in costumes, conversed, while hiding behind their purchased facades. He tuned out the chatter as he waited with bated breath for Catherine to arrive. All of a sudden, he heard the familiar sound of a beating heart, and a chill ran down his spine. He felt compelled to turn around, and as he did, the sight he beheld, stole his breath away. He slid his mask up to his hair for a better view. Rooted to the spot, he didn't dare blink or avert his eyes, as he watched the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, descend the stairs in a wine colored, spellbinding dress. His heart raced, and a nervous dance erupted among the butterflies in his stomach, but he ignored it all.

In his mind, in his heart, Catherine was embedded, and he was cognizant of every step she took, bringing her closer to him. In a million years, he would have never imagined, or dreamed, he would have a woman as gorgeous as her to ever glance in his direction. Sure, he was considered handsome, and he'd had his share of beautiful women, but she had inner and outer beauty, a rare quality in most people.

"How are you tonight, Mr. Keller?" Catherine asked, as she closed the space between them.

Several minutes elapsed before his brain connected to his ears and received her words.

"Uh...fine," he stammered.

Transfixed by Catherine, it was as if time stood still.

"Are you going to ask me to dance or do I have to find another partner?" She asked, smirking at him.

Jolted out of his trance, he felt the possessiveness rise up within him, and despite himself, he smiled. He stepped closer and grasped her hand. "Tonight, you are mine," he growled.

She frowned. "Just for tonight?"

He bent his head and whispered, "I don't plan on ever letting you go." His lips grazed her ear as the last word left his mouth. Her shiver was almost tangible as he straightened his posture, and looked into her hypnotic hazel eyes. Wearing a mask of lace, beautiful seemed inadequate to describe the vision of loveliness before him.

He slid his mask down over his eyes and led her to the dance floor. Pulling her soft, supple body against his firm physique, every nerve inside him came alive. It was going to take a little more strength than he had in supply to control the desire building within, threatening to obliterate his composure. Their bodies began to move to the song, but all Vincent could think of was getting her out of that dress, and sinking the proof of his desire so deep, he wouldn't know where he ended and she began. He willed his mind to focus on his reason for being there, otherwise, he would be tempted to take her right there on the dance floor. But, he hoped she was ready for later, because he intended to strip her down, and make love to her until she begged him to stop. He smiled. If everything went as planned, the night would end on a high note, in more ways than one.

...

JT stood at the back of the ballroom, scanning the crowd. For a moment, he feared he wouldn't be able to recognize Evan with a mask on. But then he spotted him. He should have known as arrogant as he was, he wouldn't have his mask on. Of course, he had to be the center of attention. He took a deep breath, and pulled his phone from his pocket to text Vincent.

_Setting plan into motion...standby._

He hit send, and advanced in the direction where Evan stood captivating a group of ladies. Walking in close proximity, he removed a folded note from his jacket pocket. As he approached, he bumped into Evan, and stumbled.

"I'm sorry, sir. I must pay more attention to where I'm going."

Evan scowled at him as he brushed at the lapels of his jacket. "You better be sorry. Do you know who I am?" He chuckled. "Of course, you do. You've mumbled your poor excuse of an apology, now scurry away from my sight."

JT inclined his head. "Yes, sir. But first, I must complete my assigned job. I was tasked with delivering this to you," he said, holding the note out.

Evan snatched the folded paper, and turned his attention back to the adoring ladies, dismissing JT without another glance or word.

JT strolled back to his previous spot in the back of the room and waited for his plan to unfold. Several minutes later, he spied Evan moving toward the conference room mentioned in the missive. A ghost of a smile played across his lips. He couldn't help the happiness he felt at helping Vincent get retribution, for all the years he had spent behind bars. The minutes ticked by as he let Evan sweat a little. Checking his watch, he pushed off the wall, and headed to the conference room. He didn't see Vincent, but he had faith he would save him, if the meeting escalated to a dangerous situation. He removed the recorder from his jacket pocket and hit record before returning it his pocket.

"You," Evan called out, as JT entered the room. "Is this some type of game you're playing? Because, I can assure you, you've picked the wrong opponent," he said, frowning.

"No game. I just wanted to get your side of the story, before I go to the newspapers about the Salter murder ten years ago. You see, I've uncovered enough evidence to get the case reopened."

Evan chuckled and shook his head. "How I despise slow-witted amateurs. There isn't any evidence linking me to the crime. I made sure of that. I don't know what your angle is, but if you leave now, I'll think about letting you live. Although, the sound of your soul leaving your less-than-impressive body, is quite tempting."

JT stared at the man before him. He had never imagined what evil personified would look like, but he was more than convinced, he was looking at evil in the flesh. Only a deranged person would commit a crime and frame another individual, and take pleasure in doing it.

"Your psychopath tendencies may scare most people, but I'm not afraid of you. Like I said, I came to get your statement before I go to the media. I've given you an opportunity to come clean, but since your over-inflated ego needs stroking, I guess we're done here."

Evan's nostrils flared and anger shone in his eyes. "I will take great pleasure in cutting up every little bone in your body. No one will find you once I load you into my wood chipper, and use your pathetic remains to fertilize my yard." He walked closer. "I may have a larger-than-life ego, but my pedigree wouldn't expect nothing less. I'm sure it's a sentiment you wouldn't understand. As to the Salter case, excuse me if I don't shed any tears over that overpriced whore. She was going to end our long-standing affair to marry Vincent Keller-"

"Let me get this straight. You framed an innocent man, because you didn't want your mistress to marry him," JT interjected.

JT tamped down the bile rising up in his throat. There was no mistaking the evil emanating from the dark pores of Evan Marks.

"An astute observation, but only the tip of the iceberg. She knew my secrets and was threatening to go to the media. I couldn't let that happen. You see, Vincent Keller and I are brothers. Yes, I'm adopted. I had the bad luck of being the result of my birth mother's fling in college."

"How could you frame your own brother? He didn't give you up for adoption?"

"It's simple. He had the perfect parents and even managed to snag the only woman I've ever loved. She only slept with me, because I blackmailed her. You know how it feels to have to use leverage, to get the woman of your dreams to sleep with you. Treasuring every moment, every look, knowing it's only a mirage."

"And how does Catherine Chandler play into to this unrequited love story?"

Evan snapped his head up and smiled. "I see you're smarter than I originally thought. I attended the same college as her. I asked her out one day, and she turned me down flat; looked at me like I was a piece of trash on the bottom of her shoe. Yes, I was a nerd, but she didn't give me a chance or a second look."

"So, in other words, you're a depraved, deranged lunatic; stemming from mommy issues and women that rejected you. This whole twisted plot and series of events was to exact revenge on your unsuspecting, innocent enemies. You even managed to include the FBI and the prison warden. Wow! You are one sick man," JT said.

"You're testing my equanimity. I will forgive your momentary lapse in judgement, but don't let your mouth be the instrument to cause your demise," Evan said, his voice low and deadly.

"I sure could use some Tums right now," JT said in a loud voice.

"Where you're going, you won't need Tums or anything else. My patience has run out with you. It's time to exterminate you like the little rat you are. I'll make it quick, since I'm not in an ideal location to enjoy the fruits of my kill."

JT looked behind him, wondering what was taking Vincent so long. And then a low growl filled the room. Evan looked around just in time to see a figure emerge from behind the curtains in the room. His eyes grew wide as he looked at Vincent with claws and beastly features.

Evan attempted to retrieve an item from his pocket, but Vincent grabbed him around the neck and squeezed. "Hello, Evan. We meet again, but this time it won't be the same outcome." He glanced at JT. "I'll finish up here. Follow the plan and I'll meet you later."

JT looked at Vincent and then Evan, before turning around to leave. He smiled as he walked out of the room. It had taken a long time, but Evan was finally going to get his comeuppance.

...

Vincent sat on the bed, admiring Catherine as she took off her earrings and shoes. Tonight had been a great success and he couldn't wait until tomorrow. His name would be cleared and he could come out of hiding. JT and Catherine had questioned him about Evan, but he decided to let them find out like everybody else; on the news. For tonight, he had other things on his mind.

"Vincent would you unzip my dress?"

He swallowed and took a few tentative steps toward her. His hand extended, and he touched the back of her dress, the tip of his thumb sliding the zipper down the track of teeth. His finger grazed her skin, stoking the fire pit of heat building inside his body. She shivered as the dress opened wider, exposing her back to the air. Vincent looked at her porcelain skin, clenching his teeth to keep from running his hands down the length of her back. He sucked in a desperate breath, when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. Arousal shot to the other part of his body, triggering it to grow in size and press against the material of his pants. He slid the dress down her lithe body, until it pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it and backed into his aroused body. He began to trail kisses down the side of her neck and continued down her back. He heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled. It was good to know she was affected as much as he was.

He walked her over to the bed, and relieved her of the black, lacy panties hindering his progress. Bending her over, with her hands on the bed, he dropped to his knees behind her and nudged her legs apart; leaving her open to his eager tongue. Leaning in, he pushed his tongue past her wet folds, working her over, until he felt her shudder and moan. Using his finger, he rubbed her distended nub and she came apart. Her cries of pleasure washed over him, skyrocketing his need to almost unbearable levels. Making short work of his clothes, he retrieved a condom from the pocket of his pants and sheathed his member. He turned Catherine around and guided her to a sitting position on the bed. He stepped between her legs and met her gaze, thereafter, losing himself in the bright afterglow in her eyes. Unable to hold back any longer, he slid into her channel. The slick, warm walls of her inner sanctum cushioned his rock-hard member, snapping his fragile control. She lifted her butt and he plunged in to the hilt. He moved in slow, circular motions and her moans of pleasure permeated his ears. It was like a sweet melody that struck a cord in his heart. She deserved all the happiness he could give her and more.

Her interior muscles squeezed his penis and he almost came undone. After ten years, he knew it would be impossible to savor the best moment of his entire life. Surrendering to the inevitable, he closed his eyes, and sped up the rhythm. His enhanced hearing zeroed in on Catherine's breathing, and he felt her body tense. He knew she was on the verge of exploding. Gripping her hips, he pulled out, only to slide back in, and stroke in an upward motion. His breathing accelerated and rivulets of sweat formed on his brows. He had only one goal in mind; ecstasy.

With each move, each thrusts, the heat rose and the pleasure intensified. And then her dam broke, coating his member with her release. Her contracting walls, suctioned him in, claiming him, and pulling him deeper into the depths of her heat. He lost control of his body and mind, as his hips worked harder, faster, until sweat tricked down his face. His breathing became sporadic. A guttural growl escaped his lips, as he crested towards the apex of sweet bliss. His name fell from her lips, propelling him over the edge, into sexual oblivion. Jets of his essence spurted into the condom, weakening his body. He leaned forward, attempting to regain some semblance of control. Soft hands caressed his face, and he opened his eyes. His heart thundered in his chest, when he saw the undeniable look of love in Catherine's eyes. He bent his head and claimed her lips. Sated and happy, he felt he had a chance at a future. A future with Catherine.

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. I look forward to reading your reviews. Enjoy your weekend.**


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